No More Denying
by ATudorRose
Summary: After Series 2, horrible events must be discovered for Matthew and Mary to finally see sense. Not vey good at summaries, sorry!
1. A Loss of Control

_After watching the Series 2 finale, I just had to get this out of my system! This is my first fanfic so please review, no flames if you please! If you like it, there is more on the way! I am not Mr. Fellowes, (if I was, Matthew & Mary would have been married at the end of the first series) and therefore do not own anything but the idea! _

Cursed. That's how he described it. A cursed love, a love that was never meant to be, a love that led to nothing but death and destruction when pursued. He couldn't love her now, could he? This question haunted him as he aimlessly wandered the fields, the roads about town, and every time he passed the entrance to Downton—that last look in Mary's eyes would flash through his mind, tearing a new hole in his heart. After the funeral, he stayed clear of Downton for a fortnight; fighting the vicious urge to run into the house, sweep Mary up and pull her in close, never letting her go. When he finally felt like he had the strength to enter the house once more, his heart crumbled to pieces the moment her eyes met his. Her shinning chocolate orbs had faded to a dull brown, fire extinguished, joy replaced by cold detachment. Dinner was torture, both hardly saying a word – and certainly none directed at each other. As they moved to the sitting room, Mary was forced to excuse herself; she could bear the pain no longer.

The months wore on and the stabbing pain that robbed them of their breaths was replaced by a dull ache that never seemed to go away, not even in sleep. Mary's wedding drew nearer, the event and its consequences becoming more and more pronounced with every day. Yet nothing seemed to change, it couldn't, not until someone lost control for just a fraction of a second.

That came during a party on the lawn, a week and a half before the wedding. The whole family was sat around a table, chatting merrily about the weather and the job Matthew was to start in London, just a few days after the wedding.

"I do hope you are lucky enough to find another young lady, Matthew. I'm sure there shall be plenty to choose from in London," Lord Grantham commented with a smile.

"Oh, I won't be looking."

"Yes, I suppose he who looks never finds. It shall come to you."

"I have found it once and never wish to find it again," he muttered bitterly under his breath, thinking no one would hear him.

"Oh Matthew!" Mary blurted out, losing the battle within her. For one glorious moment, Matthew looked into Mary's eyes and saw concern, care, desire, need, love; every feeling she had for him was glowing behind her eyes. All for one beautiful second before she realized her mistake and reigned herself in once more, drawing back and detaching herself again. He remained completely aware of her for the rest of the meal which ended shortly after. Sir Richard, who had been unusually quiet since Mary's outburst now asked her to join him in a walk amongst the trees, an act Matthew would have thought completely normal had the little color left in Mary's face not drained as if she had just been told of her own impending death. Sir Richard took hold of her arm just a little to forcefully and almost dragged her out of sight, unsettling Matthew even more. Matthew hobbled after them, pretending to have seen something he wanted to have a closer look at. He stood on the edge of the trees and strained to hear what was being said.

"I thought we settled this?" Carlisle hissed, "I thought you could control yourself?"

Mary's answering plea was cut short by the sickening and unmistakable sound of someone being slapped. Matthew lurched forward into the trees as the argument continued to escalate.

"I'm sick of this behavior!"

The sound of violence and their accompanying cries of pain filled his ears and made his blood pound. Matthew struggled to move faster, hindered by the cane he still needed to walk.

"You will not embarrass me in this manner once we are wed!"

Matthew rounded the corner as Carlisle sent Mary face first into the dirt.

"I command you to cease embarrassing me over Matthew Crawley!" he yelled as he delivered a powerful kick to the woman lying in the dirt before him. Her piercing cry was his undoing, his whole body set on fire with rage, every fiber of his being set alight with an unearthly cold blooded anger, he lifted his cane high above his head and brought it down on Sir Richard's head. With a deafening thud he fell to the ground face first, knocked out cold.


	2. Protector

Mary looked up through her tears, desperately trying to make out the face of her savior. She blinked furiously as he closed in on her and gasped as his soft hands touched her throbbing face, crying even harder as his vibrant blue eyes became clear to her.

"Matthew, oh Matthew," she sobbed as he pulled her in close, cradling her in his arms.

"Shhh, Mary you are alright now, shhh, Mary you are safe now," he murmured into her hair as he heard footsteps drawing near. She winced and held herself tighter in his embrace as she heard the approach.

"Over here!" Matthew yelled, trying to alert the party as to where they were.

"My God!" Lord Grantham exclaimed when he caught sight of them, in the dirt, Mary sobbing into Matthew's chest, Sir Richard lying unconscious just off to the side.

"Mary? Mary? What on earth has happened here?"

"We will have time for explanations later; right now we must get Mary into the house." Matthew responded, holding Mary tighter still. "I fear she may be badly injured."

"Mary, look at me, please!" Lord Grantham begged, reeling back when she lifted her head from Matthew's protective hold and bared her battered face to everyone gathered around them. The moment he reached out to touch her, she hastily buried her face again, concentrating solely on the comforting feel of Matthew's arms around her. Knowing that she needed him, him and only him, gave Matthew the strength he needed to lift her up in his arms, noting she was alarmingly light, and determinedly carry her back to her room, leaving his cane in the dust. With tremendous effort, he was finally able to lay her down on her bed, only to find that she cried out in panic as he tried to pull back.

"No! Matthew don't go!" she yelled, establishing a death grip on his shirt and jacket. With the warmth of his body gone she felt vulnerable and exposed, still not being able to gain control over the tears that had not ceased to fall from her eyes.

"Shhh, I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here, I'm right here." He pried her fingers from his shirt but quickly took her hands in his own, holding her dainty fingers tightly.

"Did Carlisle do this to her?" Lord Grantham demanded. Matthew nodded his head in a silent conformation. Sybil ran into the room ready to nurse just as Lord Grantham ran out to call the police and the doctor. Sybil fluttered about, trying to clean her up and inspect the damage but Mary wasn't having it. She thrashed about, screaming at the pain in her sides and working herself into a near hysterical state.

"Mary, Mary, Mary. Shhh, calm down, calm down, you're alright, it's just Sybil," Matthew chanted softly to her, squeezing her fingers, stroking her face, smoothing her hair, doing anything he could to soothe her and calm her down so she could be seen to.

"Sybil, pass me that cloth," he commanded. Hesitantly she handed the cloth over; watching in amazement as Matthew carefully cleaned Mary's beaten and tear stained face, calming her down in mere minutes.

Over the next few hours, people streamed in and out of the room and the doctor came, discovering three broken ribs as well as huge black and blue bruises covering almost every inch of her body.

"I am sorry to inform you," Dr. Clarkson said, "but most of these bruises are not fresh. I would guess there is over a week's worth of damage here."

Matthew remained by her side through it all, nearly retching when he found out the extent and length of her pain, holding her hands and keeping her calm, whispering comforting words in her ear as people came and went, her ribs were reset and bandaged, and finally the news arrived that Sir Richard had been arrested and taken into custody. As the night began to creep over, they ate a quiet dinner in Mary's room; Ms. Patmore had cooked up some of Mary's favorite soup as a child. They said very little and just enjoyed each other's company. Her tears had dried and her voice was hoarse, eyes drooping as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Darling, go to sleep. You've had a long day, you need your rest."

"But Matthew, I'm…-"she whispered, trailing off.

"Yes?"

"I'm frightened to close my eyes." Her voice was quiet and timid, so low that only Matthew could hear.

"I'll protect you."

"But what if I wake and you aren't here?"

"I will be."

"How can I be sure?"

"Trust me," he murmured, eyes alight with a new fire. The maid left the room, leaving them alone for the first time that day. Matthew dropped her hand slowly, keeping eye contact so she wouldn't be alarmed. He stood and removed his jacket and tie, resting them on the chair he had just spent the majority of the day sitting on. Next came his belt and socks; he had kicked his shoes off hours ago. Un-tucking his shirt from his pants, he walked around to the other side of the bed and lie down next to Mary, holding her hands next to his heart.

"Oh Matthew darling, don't be silly. Do come under the covers, you'll catch your death."

"But Mary – "

"Shhh, you and I both know I have no virtue left to protect. Please."

Matthew smiled and climbed under the covers, resuming the exact same position. Mary immediately snuggled in close, gently laying her battered visage against his warm chest, listening to the soothing sound of his beating heart. She fell asleep almost straight away. Matthew lay awake for a while longer, reflecting on the day's events and soothing Mary's restless sleep. Her fingers would tighten and loosen around his shirt, and she would tense up and curl in closer, whimpering at the terrors that plagued her mind. At these moments he would holder closer, murmuring soft nothings, until his own exhaustion won over and he fell into a light slumber.


	3. Revelations

**So, here is chapter 3! Thank you so much to those who reviewed, I was hesitant about posting at first, but thanks to you guys I'm very glad I did. There is definitely at least one more chapter, maybe two; we shall have to see what a 10 hour plane ride can produce! Enjoy!**

"Matthew!"

He awoke with a start, Mary soundly asleep in his arms and smiled, enjoying this seemingly perfect scene. The perfection of the situation came crashing down however, when he glanced up and saw his mother sanding in the doorway looking positively outraged. Recollection of the events that led him to his current place seeped into his mind as he actually looked down at the woman in his arms, wanting to cry out at the sight of his beloved's swollen and discolored face.

"Mother, I – "He tried to say but was interrupted.

"What in God's name is happening now?" Lord Grantham demanded, having just come around the doorway.

"Sir, I, umm, - " Whilst trying to untangle himself from Mary's embrace and get out of the bed, he was interrupted once more. The sudden movement startled Mary and sent her into a semi-conscious fit of hysterics, screaming for help at the top of her lungs. Her reaction was so sudden that no one thought about what they were dealing with and instinctively closed in around her, scaring her even more.

"Get back!" Matthew bellowed, causing the rooms inhabitants to jump back in surprise.

"Just back up and let me calm her."

Isobel and Robert watched in stunned silence as he lay back down next to Mary, protecting her from her own thrashing limbs and spoke softly and gently to her, so low that only she could hear what he was saying. Gradually she calmed and gained consciousness, smiling at Matthew and struggling to take deep breaths against the pain in her ribs – not entirely aware of what had just happened.

"Hello," she whispered, "I'm glad you're here. I was so afraid you wouldn't be," she continued weakly, voice hoarse from the fresh round of screaming.

"I told you I would be. And here I am much to the chagrin of both our parents."

"Oh goodness!" she exclaimed, suddenly realizing they were no longer the only ones in the room. She tried to sit up, momentarily forgetting about her broken ribs and letting out a choked gasp as the injury made itself known. Mary fell back and focused on trying to control her heavy breathing as the pain subsided.

"Oh, oh… father," she said, still breathing deeply.

"Yes, Mary dear?" Lord Grantham asked, coming to her bedside.

"Please don't be upset with Matthew, it's my fault. I really needed him," she pleaded, looking from her father to the man lying next to her. Catching his shinning blue eyes she whispered to him, "I still need him."

The day progressed, and Mary won the battle over Matthew, keeping him with her as she fell in and out of fitful and restless bouts of sleep. He held her hand as her ribs were inspected; as she struggled to stomach the food brought to her, and through what seemed like an endless stream of people coming in and out of the room wishing her well. The day wound to a close at last and Mary feigned exhaustion simply to clear the room of unwanted visitors. After refusing once again to be left completely alone, Matthew rather willingly climbed into bed with her, drawing her into his arms while being careful not to knock her damaged ribs. They lay quietly for a time, both savoring the peaceful silence around them. Mary was the first to break it.

"Matthew," she spoke softly into his chest, "this cannot be wrong." She pulled back to look into his eyes, pausing for a minute before she continued, "You were wrong, we both were. Our love is not cursed. It is our stubborn refusal to accept what is meant to be. Think about it. Poor Lavinia's fate can be traced back to that awful day in 1914 when I had not the courage to follow my heart. It is our lack of faith in each other that has set all these terrible events into motion. No more denying! Our love itself is not, nor will it ever be, cursed! Can you see?"

"Matthew was stunned, but the more he thought about it, the more the truth of Mary's words dawned on him.

"If I had never gotten engaged to Lavinia, you would have never agreed to Sir Richard…"

"And we would be happily married instead of wrapped up in this mess." Mary finished with a smile.

"My God, this is entirely fault!" he started to say but Mary cut him off firmly.

"Matthew dearest, can either of us claim the glory of being at fault? The fault is _ours_; we share the blame; for we have both been foolish and stubborn."

Matthew could resist no longer. Tidal waves of emotion crashing over him, he leaned in, lips touching lips at long last. It was sweet and gentle at first but as his tongue slid past the barrier of her lips and tasted what he had so long denied himself, it evolved into something more passionate and raw. Their hands were everywhere, touching, exploring, desperate to tell each other feelings that no words could express. They clung hungrily to each other for what seemed like an eternity, until the essential need for air broke them apart. Matthew's eyes shone with emotion; they were so bright and clear that Mary felt as if she could see straight into his soul. Her affections and thoughts were mirrored by him, completely enchanted by her chocolate eyes that seemed to glow in the low light of the room.

"Oh Matthew," she exclaimed breathlessly.

"My darling."

The way he spoke the words made her heart swell, she was _his_ darling, she belonged to him, and the knowledge of this fact made her so happy she thought she could burst from the pride swelling inside her. They came together again, pulling each other in and making up for almost six years of wasted time.

"I love you Mary" he breathed into her ear sometime later.

"I love you too Matthew, I love you so much."

"No more mistakes, no more doubts. We will be together."


	4. The Whole Truth

_Here we go, the next couple chapters! Terribly sorry it took me a while to post, thank you so much to you guys who alerted/ favorited the story – it means so much to me. I have the last two chapters mostly written, so just a short while until those are up as well! As always, I own nothing but the plot line of this story, I am merely playing with the characters created my Mr. Fellows. _

Her recovery was a long one, the emotional wounds taking much longer to heal than the physical ones, even though the whole process was greatly shortened by Matthew's constant presence. He had practically moved into the Abbey, hardly ever leaving her bedside, and her first steps outside were taken with the unwavering support of his arm. Matthew never faltered in his delicate care and attention, nor did his strength waver. Nothing seemed to faze him; not even when Mary confided in him the extent of her pain, the months of abuse she had endured.

The wind whipped around them as they sat quietly on Mary's favorite bench in the garden, under the big tree. Matthew's jacket hung over Mary's shoulders and she was grateful for the extra warmth, for she had been terribly cold, but she still could do nothing to stop the shivers that had nothing to do with the bitter wind. Matthew looked over at Mary just in time to see a tear slip down her snow white cheek.

"Darling?" He asked softly.

"The inspector is coming to talk to me tomorrow," she replied slowly.

"Yes, I was told. You don't have to see him alone Mary."

"You will come in with me?"

"Of course, should you wish it."

"I do. Although, I have yet to tell you the whole truth, and I don't want you to hear anything tomorrow that you haven't heard before." She looked at him with big eyes.

"The whole truth, Mary?"

She looked away.

"The bruises you saw where not made that day, I'm sure you heard Dr. Clarkson. He said maybe a week old and I think he may be right, however, those are just the ones that had yet to heal."

"How long?" Matthew asked, trying to remain calm.

"I'm not really sure to be honest. I try to forget; three months, maybe four, whenever I said or did something he didn't approve of," she paused. When she spoke again, her voice shook with the memory, "or when he had too much to drink," she finished, closing her eyes as more tears slipped out.

"All this time you've kept your silence, and no one noticed." Matthew had hardly seen her in the past months, though he was inwardly repulsed that he had not noticed anything amiss when he had seen her.

"What could I say?" she responded sadly. Then her voice took on a more scathing tone, "Sir Richard was always very careful never to leave a mark where it would be seen, only ever in places that would be improper to reveal. I was trapped," she hissed through her teeth.

"But Mary, you could have told someone, you could have ended the engagement!"

"If only it was that simple! Matthew, should I do or say anything against him, he, he has the ability to ruin my family!"

"Whatever do you mean?" Matthew asked bewildered.

"That awful night, when you came under the blankets with me, I told you I have no virtue left. You didn't question me, so I presume you have heard the story by now."

"Actually, I was rather confused by that," he stammered, his face going slightly red, "but it seemed like a good enough excuse for me to climb in with you, so I let the matter drop."

Mary looked him straight in the eye and let it out.

"I took a lover. A lover, with no thought of marriage! It was the Turkish gentleman, Mr. Pamuk."

"The one who – "

"Yes, the one who died. He came into my room uninvited and unwanted, that is true, but I didn't turn him away for fear he would expose he had been in my room. He died in my room, in my arms, and I was forced to carry his corpse back to his room. I had help, but I won't dirty their names buy revealing them." She stopped to gather her breath before continuing her tale, "Last year, Mr. Bates' ex-wife somehow got a hold of this story and was trying to sell it to the papers, so I told Sir Richard and he bought the story, ensuring he had sole control over it. Vera Bates was bound in silence. That's the reason I agreed to marry him, if I didn't, _he _would run the story, but now, I suppose there is no hope of it staying hidden," Mary finished, eyes shining with tears. Every aspect of her face begged for his forgiveness and understanding. Matthew was horrified, barely able to comprehend what he had just been told.

"He was blackmailing you?" Matthew spat. Mary was surprised, she had been sure he was going to say something about the affair.

"Is it still blackmail if I gave him the information?" she responded sadly.

"Yes, yes it is Mary! You must tell the police everything you have just told me; it will be another criminal offence against Carlisle. We will stop him." The utter conviction and confidence in Matthew's voice calmed Mary.

"Very well, I shall tell them."

"You may, however, choose to leave out the _particular _details of your, umm, affair," he added with a slight smile.

"Oh Matthew, do you see now? This is why I never answered your proposal; I knew I could never accept without telling you. I couldn't bear the thought of losing your love, so I put off telling you, and then it was too late. That is the real reason Matthew, it had nothing to do with the baby or your inheritance, nothing at all, it never did!" Mary was crying again, pleading with him, desperately hoping that he could understand.

"Can you forgive me?" she whispered.

Matthew tucked away strands of chestnut hair the wind had pulled lose, and gently whipped away her tears with a brush of his thumb. He lowered his lips to hers, gently kissing her. When he pulled back, he looked into her impossibly deep eyes and said,

"Mary you've made a mistake; quite a few, I dare say. But then, so have I. How could I possibly be cross?"

"But I am not virtuous."

"You forget, I was not raised as you were. To me, your situation is to be frowned upon, but I would not end a marriage over it. You have paid dearly; I only wish I could have prevented so much heartbreak." He pulled her into his arms and she sighed deeply, falling into his embrace. He could feel her silent tears moistening his shirt as the wind continued to give flight to the leaves around them, and he looked around; the rolling green grass, the swaying flowers, the great house he had come to love dearly in the distance. This was his future. The thought of living, running, being in that house without her, he knew he couldn't do it. It was _their_ future.


	5. Safe

That night, Matthew and Mary had taken dinner in Mary's room, accompanied only by Anna. Mary and Anna had always been close, but they had grown to be incredible friends through the incredible turmoil in each of their lives. When Mary's bedroom door closed the great wall between lady and maid all but crumbled; and the two women frequently poured out their hearts to each other. During the quiet meal, Matthew and Anna tried to take her mind off the inspector coming tomorrow; they could both tell that she was nervous. The conversation ran dry eventually, and instead of trying to start a new one, they lapsed into a peaceful silence. Matthew broke it as Anna got up to start preparing the room for night.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"What for?" Marry asked, confused.

"For telling me. I understand now."

"Oh, you can't imagine how it feels to have that weight off my shoulders, to know I'm not hiding anything from you. And here you are, still sitting here, still talking to me."

"After all that's happened, after all I've lived through, I'm not sure finding you guilty of murder would stop me from loving you."

Mary smiled.

Long after both had retired to bed, Mary lay awake staring at the top of her canopy bed. She couldn't sleep; her mind was working at full speed, refusing to slow down enough for her to drift off. Wishing she had Matthew with her – he had moved into his own room down the hall – Mary climbed out of bed and wrapped herself in her favorite red silk dressing gown, intending to go down to the library. As she stepped out into the hall however, something made her stop. A muffled noise, a sound she couldn't quite make out was coming from the end of the hall. She looked around, not even sure if she heard it. There it was again, louder this time. She walked towards the source. Someone was moaning. Someone was crying. Someone was shouting. Matthew was shouting. Mary began to run down the hall as his cries became louder and louder, and she didn't pause at his door. Bursting straight in, the sight inside broke her heart.

_Matthew was running across the horrid field, shouting and firing his gun. The sound of bombs exploding and shells flying shook the earth and pounded in his ears. He felt as if he could barely see anything, just William by his side and the glimpses of scarlet red silk that kept flashing between the oncoming men. Men fell around him and he heard their awful cries, almost falling over as a shell landed perilously close to him. Dirt flew everywhere and the soldiers all around him started to blend together, all in the same uniform of caked on grim and blood. _

Matthew was writhing in his bed, drenched in sweat as tears covered his face and ran down his neck. His eyes were open but un-seeing, and he was yelling at men to stop, to watch out, to run, and fresh tears continued to flow as he watched friends die in his mind.

_Just as he made it through another line of Germans the silk appeared again. But this time, it draped and swirled around a tall figure with long dark hair that blew about her face, catching the wind and twirling in every which direction. Her beautiful features were clouded with worry and she was calling to him, reaching out for him._

"Please, Matthew wake up!" Mary cried gripping his heaving shoulders. "Darling wake up!"

_He tried desperately to reach her, pushing forward with a new fury as he tried to hear what she called. Just as he reached out to grab her hand, a shell landed next to him and exploded with a deafening bang. The last thing he saw was William jumping in front of him._

"_William no –" _ he screamed before his body convulsed painfully and he jolted awake.

"Oh God…" Matthew moaned as he rolled towards Mary, squeezing his eyes shut as he began to sob. It was Mary's turn to comfort, and she didn't hesitate for a second.

"Hold on darling," she whispered and ran to the window, opening it and letting the night air in. The cold breeze felt good to his overheated body and he opened his eyes, watching her as she hurried around the room. She turned on a low lamp, dimly illuminating the grand room, and went over to the wash stand to retrieve a cloth. She came and sat down on the bed next to him, murmuring soft, comforting words. She whipped his face and neck, washing away all the sweat and tears. As his breathing slowed and his vision cleared, he couldn't help but be stunned that the beautiful woman from his dream was over him, cleaning him. Her long dark hair was down and slipped beautifully over her shoulders, and the dressing gown she wore was the exact red silk that he had seen in his dream. Her skin seemed luminescent in the low light and this time her delicate features were molded with a gentler worry, coupled with tender care. Her velvet voice fell over him in sweet waves of relief and soothed his damaged nerves. When he was sufficiently cooled, Mary put down the cloth and simply held his hands as he watched her. Finally, in a horse whisper he told her,

"It was different this time. You were there. You were there and you were calling me and I couldn't get to you and then I did but the shell hit before I could, I could…"

"My dear, I am here now and we are safe. Both of us."

"Mary? Mary, will you, will you lie with me?"

"Oh course my darling." She smiled and slipped out of her dressing gown, draping it over a chair by the door.

"Would you like me to turn the light off?" she asked as she hovered by the switch.

"No, leave it on please."

She walked over to the bed and climbed in next to him, settling down by his side. He pulled her in his arms and held her tightly, hiding his face in her hair. She could feel his tears once more.

"Shhh, darling," she sang as she reached up to stroke his hair, "shhh, darling, go to sleep." 


	6. Under Our Tree

Matthew awoke the next morning to a note on his pillow. He picked up the folded piece of paper as he looked around the room. The curtains swayed by the open window, a crumpled cloth sat on the nightstand; and there, on the chair by the door, lay Mary's silk dressing gown. He climbed out of bed and padded over to it, picking it up as he reached the chair. The smooth material fell about his hands as he held it, his mind full of her. He opened the note.

_My dearest Matthew, when you get dressed, come to me_

_under our tree. I will have breakfast for us, I wish to eat out in the _

_air this morning. Tell no one._

_Love, Mary_

He hurried to get dressed, putting on pants and a simple linen shirt. Pulling on his waistcoat and jacket; he tucked the note into his breast pocket and slipped from the room, but not before retrieving a small black box from the back of the drawer in which it had been residing, guarded by the little stuffed dog. As he walked down the stairs he could hear people in the dining room and took care to be as quiet as possible as he stole from the house.

He crested the hill and as the old tree – _our tree_, he thought – came into view, he quickened his pace. Mary sat on a blanket spread before the tree with her back to him. Her hair was pulled back into a simple braid and she was wearing a soft blue dress. Matthew crept up behind her and kissed the top of her head making her jump slightly.

"Matthew!" she exclaimed, looking up in delight, "you frightened me!"  
>"Terribly sorry my love," he said with a smirk as he sat down next to her. She had laid out a wonderful looking breakfast.<p>

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come," she laughed.

"And why ever would I not?"

"Because you were too busy sleeping!"

This brought back the memory of last night and his face turned serious.

"Thank you Mary. I'm so sorry you had to see that."

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Anyways, I was glad to comfort you and especially glad for another reason to spend the night in your arms."

A small smile flickered across his face as she said this, but it didn't last long.

"I was sure I was rid of that dream. I hadn't had it in weeks," he muttered.

"Will we ever be truly free of the demons that haunt our hearts? I don't believe so, which is why we must make do and learn how to handle them."

"Precisely," Matthew whispered. He turned the full power of his gaze on Mary and took her hands in his own, his strong, deep voice filling the air.

"I only wish to move forward from here, to put the past in the past. I want to secure my happiness, but more importantly, I want to ensure the happiness of, to protect, and to hold forever more the woman I love. Lady Mary Crawley, will you marry me?" His beautiful eyes were shining with the depth of his emotion and his gaze was that of such sincere love that it took Mary's breath away.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, yes," her voice gaining in volume, "oh my darling, of course I'll marry you!" she exclaimed as she threw herself into his arms. Matthew laughed out loud, a laugh full of pure, undiluted joy and he pulled himself back, digging in his pocket.

"My dearest Mary," he said presenting the small black box. Mary gasped. Nestled within the red silk lining was a beautiful engagement ring. The glittering center diamond was surrounded by tiny sparkling rubies, delicately set and mounted on a thin gold band. It was perfect, the most glorious piece of jewelry she had ever seen.

"Matthew it's beautiful," she breathed in awe, lightly brushing the jewels with her fingertips.

"May I?" he asked. She held out her left hand with a quivering smile and he carefully removed the ring from its housing. As he slid the ring on to her finger, such an overwhelming rush of love for the man in front of her made Mary feel as if her heart might explode. She placed her hands on the sides of his face, drinking in the look of sheer love. They came together, and their lips met in a kiss of devotion and passion, safe in each other's arms.

When they returned to the house some time later, they almost ran into the drawing room in which everyone was sitting. They paused outside the door and stole a quick kiss before Mary threaded her arm through the crook of Matthew's elbow, making sure her hand was easily visible on his arm. They walked into the room grinning from ear to ear and with such an air of joy that everybody's eyebrows shot up immediately.

"Lord and Lady Grantham, it brings me immense joy to inform you that Lady Mary and I are to be wed." Matthew told them, pride ringing in his voice.

"My baby!" Cora exclaimed as she noticed the ring. She got up to hug Mary as Robert and Mary shook hands.

"What splendid news! Oh my boy! This is wonderful!" Lord Grantham boomed after getting over his initial shock.

"We will have to ask Violet and Cousin Isobel for dinner, we came tell them then," Cora decided. Even Edith was happy for them, hugging Mary and wishing her sincere joy. After an exciting lunch, Matthew and Mary met the inspector with calm confidence, and Matthew held her hand tightly as she recounted her harrowing tale to a complete stranger. He admired her strength and unwavering tone, feeling and enormous swell of pride every time the light caught her ring and made the jewels glint through the delicate cream lace of her gloves.

Dinner was a joyous affair, both older women delighted but unsurprised; especially Violet as she had helped Matthew choose the ring. She had been silently touched when he came and asked for her assistance, she saw it as a peace offering she was only too glad to accept. Looking at it as it rested on her finger now, she was glad he had turned her favor to that one; it really did look very pretty. Everything was as it should be, the estate and Earldom would be passed on to a smart and caring man; her favorite granddaughter would not lose her home, but go on to assume the role that she had been so long denied. Most of all though, she was safe in the arms of a loving man and the affection that emanated between them made her smile in a manner that had lay forgotten since her own husband died.

**One chapter left… Please review, it means the world to me! :-))))**


	7. Epilogue

_December 12, 1920_

_ Yesterday morning, joined by their family and friends, Captain Matthew Crawley and Lady Mary Crawley were married in a beautiful ceremony at York Minster, close to their new home, Crawley House, and the home Capt. Crawley and his new wife will one day inherit, Downton Abbey. They will move there when Capt. Crawley succeeds and becomes the next Earl of Grantham. Both have traveled a rocky path to matrimony, so please join everyone here at The Times in wishing them a long marriage full of happiness and love._

Matthew read the announcement to Mary as they lay in bed the morning after their wedding, enjoying the peaceful quiet of Crawley House. The previous night's attire was still scattered about the room, and Mary felt an irrepressible warmth course through her as she remembered the first time they could truly love each other. Mary looked up at her husband, blond hair rumpled with a content, languid smile spread across his beautiful features, and a single tear slipped out the corner of her eye.

"Darling?" Matthew asked softly.

"I'm so happy; I fear I shall wake up any moment. I had so long given up hope of this happening," she told him quietly.

"My beautiful girl, if this were a dream, I should never let you wake. However, this is no dream and I shall make sure you know it." He smiled and rolled so he was holding himself atop her. He kissed her passionately, re-igniting the fire that had consumed them the night before. He pulled back and grinned mischievously, eyes shining.

"This," he breathed between hot kisses down her neck, "is real."

Their lips found each other as they joined together once more, becoming what they had always been destined to be; two halves of the same soul.

_January 4, 1985_

_Yesterday morning, the Earl and Countess were discovered in their bed at their home Downton Abbey, having both passed away during the night. Lord and Lady Crawley played a remarkable role in British society throughout their lifetime, including the fact that Lord Matthew Crawley was a highly regarded and decorated war hero, playing major roles in both The Great War and World War II. They have left behind a thriving estate and a new Earl, the couple's oldest son James Crawley. Lady Mary Crawley was the proud mother of four successful children: James, Robert, Violet, and Victoria; all of whom now have children of their own. Mr. Crawley was aged 95, his wife 93. The couple married in December of 1920 and enjoyed an amazing 65 year marriage. Mr. and Mrs. Crawley died in each other's arms. God Rest Their Souls. _

**So there we have it. I can't say it enough, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and added the story to their alert/ favorite lists. Any last thoughts and comments on the piece would be heaven sent. Keep a look out for my other story and a new M/M piece I am working on based on the preview for the Christmas special trailer. So excited I can hardly wait ;DDD! **

**Xxx A Tudor Rose**


End file.
